


Another You

by The-Clairvoyant-Rick (MajixTrixx)



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Begging, Choking, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possession, Possessive C-137, Prostitution, Shape Shifter!Rick, Threesomes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajixTrixx/pseuds/The-Clairvoyant-Rick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty shifted nervously, unable to meet the eyes of the man who looked so much like his grandfather, "W-what can I-I-I get for $85?" Morty pulled a wad of crumpled bills from his jeans, trembling from the adrenaline of what he was asking.</p><p>A tell-tale grin curved the blue haired man's lips into a predatory smirk before he leaned down, smoothly pocketing the bills, his breath tickling the shell of Morty's ear, "48 minutes of whatever the fuck you want."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, I’m finally back! Sort of haha. My writer’s block has been an absolute NIGHTMARE. Couldn’t get past it no matter how hard I tried. Honestly, it was awful. I’m pretty confident about this one though! It’s gonna be released in three segments, so it won’t stay this short I promise haha Anyway! I’d like to dedicate this to the incredibly wonderful (and oh so talented) Schwifty-Rick whom I love and have coined my Sin Wife. I’d also like to offer a special thank you to my lovely friend Peppermint, also known as Squikkums on Tumblr for always being willing to edit my work and make it the best that it can be. I appreciate both of you and I will never take you for granted.

Morty shifted nervously from foot to foot, tugging at the bottom of his freshly laundered yellow shirt with obvious anxiety as his eyes scanned the faces around him. Rick's portal gun sat heavily in the waistband of his jeans, weighed down with the guilt over having stolen it in the first place and though Morty was confident that his grandfather was passed out and drunk enough not to look for the gun for several hours, he couldn't help but to practically jump out of his skin at the first sign of blue hair or a white coat, devastatingly afraid that Rick was going to catch him and punish him for taking it.

Ironically though, it was those same features that he was looking for within the hotel lobby.

There were rumors, quiet whispers of a very specific Rick on the Phrixian moon casino that specialized in exactly what Morty was looking for.

For the right price. 

From what Morty understood from the rumors, as well as the things he'd heard in the halls of the Citadel on the rare occasions when he adventured there with Rick, the version from Phrixia was born in a timeline where mutants existed. He had the ability to shift his appearance, a skin changer they called him, and was appropriately coined “the Chameleon”. Apparently he wasn't very popular among the other Ricks because of the way he'd chosen to use his abilities and when the brunet made the mistake of piping up and asking if it was like Mystique from the X-Men he'd gotten a bit more than a dirty look from his own Rick. Regardless, the teen assumed the answer was yes, hence his reason for searching the elusive version out.    


Unbeknownst to him, the skinwalker had already spotted the boy, watching with amusement as the brunet searched the faces of all that passed him by, appearing more like a first time shoplifter in a candy store than a potential client. The older man smirked and calmly walked over to the boy, gently grasping his upper arm, features pulled down in a rare display of open concern that almost looked wrong on his face, "You alright, babe? Look like you're gonna have a stroke." 

Morty jumped as the Rick touched him unexpectedly, his eyes going wide with fear before he relaxed at the realization that this was the exact person that he was looking for, "I-I'm alright. Just, y'know, nervous. Are you t-the Chameleon Rick?" 

Rick's brow raised in pleasant, half-hearted surprise, his suspicions immediately confirmed that the boy was indeed a client and he let a ripple of change flow over his flesh, giving his skin an air of fluidity before once again going solid, "I am. Been a long time since I met a Morty looking for my services. What can I do for ya, babe?" 

Morty shifted nervously, unable to meet the eyes of the man who looked so much like his grandfather, "W-what can I-I-I get for $85?" Morty pulled a wad of crumpled bills from his jeans, trembling from the adrenaline of what he was asking. 

A tell-tale grin curved the blue haired man's lips into a predatory smirk before he leaned down, smoothly pocketing the bills, his breath tickling the shell of Morty's ear, "48 minutes of whatever the fuck you want."  
Morty's heart was in his throat, hammering painfully against the slick walls of his esophagus, making it hard to breathe as he nodded in agreement, watching the sly smile curling the elder’s mouth widen with a sense of trepidation. 

“Excellent. Follow me then.” 

Without waiting for any sort of response, the Chameleon turned and walked away, leaving Morty to try and catch up with the older man’s quick stride. 

It was nerve wracking, dancing so intimately along the line in the sand between what his morals deemed to be right and where his conscience urged him to shy away from. Desire was a strange thing though, and the more he thought about finally getting what he wanted, the less the brunet cared about the questionability of his actions. In a last ditch effort to defend his own decisions, Morty acknowledged that he was basing all his fears and concerns on a planetary mind set, a group of rules that really didn’t apply to him. Not anymore. 

Running on autopilot and barely paying attention to his surroundings, Morty found himself very nearly startled when he looked up and realized that they were no longer surrounded by card tables, bars and the alien equivalent of slot machines. 

Rather, the pair was making their way through a lavishly decorated hallway. 

Like the rest of the casino, the interior of the hotel wing was just as beautifully decorated as the lobby. Expensive paintings adorned the walls between doors, and the rich crimson carpets stood out in startling contrast against the cream colored walls. It was lovely, by far the most expensive hotel that he’d ever been inside and Morty found himself growing slightly nervous as they continued on. Ever conscious of his surroundings and worried about breaking something, Morty walked a little faster, staying right behind the calm and collected Rick ahead of him only to very nearly bump into the older man when he stopped in front of a random door. 

Blue eyes danced with amusement as the Rick glanced down at Morty’s flushed little face. He was so high strung, obviously nervous about what he was doing, most likely struggling with his morals or whatever sort of junk Morties struggled with, but the shape-shifter couldn’t help but to find it a bit endearing. Fluid with years of practice, the Chameleon slid his key into the door’s lock, listening to the tumblers fall into place with a distinct click before the off white surface swung inward, revealing his permanent home away from home. 

The room wasn’t anything incredibly luxurious in terms of what the universe had to offer, but it definitely wasn’t shabby. The walls were encoded with hologram visualization technology, giving two of the biggest walls the appearance of being underwater. Schools of fish from various worlds he’d been to in the past swam calmly past the faux glass, weaving between brightly colored clumps of coral before scattering in the face of a spotted predator. The remainder of the room was made of wood paneled walls and hardwood floors, dark and sleek, standing out in a visually striking contrast to the black and white color scheme of the furniture. A food replicator sat on the farthest wall, nestled in an alcove that kept it from being in the way. However, the biggest and most attention drawing piece in the room was the huge king sized bed seated on the left side of the room.  

The comforter was grey, setting it apart from the other pieces of furniture but the top layer was pulled back, exposing the silky black sheets beneath. A mountain of fluffy white pillows sat stacked up against the headboard. And a single cream colored throw blanket laid at the foot of the monstrous bed.   
It was home, if Rick ever really had a place to call as such and he was used to the visualization but as he glanced back over his shoulder at Morty, he could see the wonder on the teen’s face. No doubt the boy had never seen a basic hotel room as grand or luxurious as this in his travels across the multiverse, and the shape-shifter suppressed a smug grin, “Make yourself at home.” 

Still wide eyed, the brunet stepped past the threshold, allowing Rick to shut the door behind him. It was gorgeous, sleek and comfortable despite the obvious poshness, and Morty was surprised that his measly $85 had gotten him in the door, let alone almost an hour with the man before him. 

Still tense and not expecting it, Morty nearly jumped out of his skin when Rick clapped a hand down on his shoulder, only to blush when he heard the elder laugh, “Jeez, Morty. Chill out. I’m not going to bite you.” 

A predatory look flashed over the blue haired man’s features before he grinned once again, “Unless you want me too, of course.” 

Rick’s smirk only grew when Morty’s cheeks darkened a few shades, “Oh, umm, w-well, y’know, whatever you want, Rick.” 

Sensing an opening, the older man approached the awkward youth, eyeing him up without shame or hesitation, “No, I don’t think so, Morty. That’s not how this works.” Rick circled the young man, casually brushing up against him, gliding his fingers along the cotton on Morty’s shoulders, “It’s all about you. 

Rick finally stopped in front of the overwhelmed teen, invading the brunet’s personal space just the slightest bit as he leaned forward to whisper, “What do you want me to do, babe? Who can I be for you?” 

Pulling back just enough to catch sight of Morty’s wide green eyes, the shape-shifter smirked, “Let me guess.” 

With a whisper of a thought and the briefest ripple, the older man’s atoms started to rearrange themselves, shifting and sliding over each other and changing their very composition until, rather than being faced with one of the many infinite versions of his grandfather, Morty was face to face with the scantily dressed version of his high school crush. Her breasts were full and lush, covered by the thinnest layer of black lace. Two strips of material connected to the redhead’s bra just below her sternum, lining her exposed stomach, interlaced with a corset design of blue ribbon, connecting the bottom to the triangle of her matching black lace panties with an over flourished bow. The bra piece was held up by straps wrapping around her neck, bringing out the sharpness of her collarbones, the creamy paleness of her skin and the soft looking waves of her gorgeous red hair. 

“How’s this, Morty?” The Jessica imitation trailed her fingers up Morty’s arm and brunet’s eyes practically bugged out of his skull. 

Even after four years of sharing a math class and awkwardly flirting with her over the years, Morty couldn’t tell the difference between the redhead in front of him and the real thing. She seemed just like the real Jessica, looked and sounded like something straight out of his wet dreams. Gorgeous and soft, feminine, sexy in all the ways he used to daydream about and once upon a time, she would have been absolutely everything that the younger man was looking for. Not long ago, Morty would have jumped at this chance, would have taken her over and over again until every single one of his 48 minutes were up, but that isn’t what he wanted. 

Not anymore. 

He longed for something forbidden, something dangerous. In the place of soft feminine curves and submission, Morty longed for sharp angles and a lean body toned with years of fighting tooth and nail against the entire universe. He longed for long spidery fingers callused by years of tinkering running over his body, caressing him, commanding him. He longed for the harshly spoken words of his mentor and the acceptance he could never seem to find. 

Morty longed for the touch of his grandfather. 

The teen tugged nervously at the hem of his shirt, trying, and failing, to find a way to word his request, “Actually I was wondering if maybe y-y-you could, y’know, be Rick.” the boy swallowed, looking down at the carpet and anywhere other than the shapeshifter’s face. “A specific Rick.” 

Because of Morty’s shy nature and the aversion of his gaze, the dark haired boy completely missed the flabbergasted look on Rick’s assumed face. There was shock there, complete and utter astonishment at the request, and the Chameleon couldn’t remember the last time that he’d been surprised in such a way. 

A Morty seeking out his services was rare in and of itself. Very few times in Rick’s long career had he come across versions of his grandson looking for his services. It just didn’t happen all that often, and when it did, their requests were almost always predictable. Nearly every single Morty he’d ever serviced had asked for Jessica, bar the previously odd one of the group that had requested a Summer look-a-like, but that was about as far as it went. Morties were supposed to be simple, but this one, this one was different. 

Sliding into his former skin, Rick looked down at the anxious teen with a raised brow, “Which Rick are we talking about here?” 

Morty glanced back up at the older man, his cheeks coloring when he realized that the elder had, once again, taken the shape of the blue haired scientist, “C-137.”  

Both brows rose in astonished amazement, his blue eyes widening. Today, it seemed was a day of surprises and Rick couldn’t have been more thrilled if he’d come across the One True Morty seeking out his skills, “You belong to  _ the rogue?” _

Reddened cheeks darkened a few shades but Morty nodded. 

Rick whistled, crossing his arms across his chest with a smirk, “Damn kid. I’ve heard that guy is a real asshole.”

Temporarily forgetting the nervousness threatening to swallow him whole, the brunet snorted, “Y-yeah. You’ve got no idea.” Sobering a bit, Morty looked up into the amused eyes of his companion, “So can ya, y’know, do it?” 

The older man snickered, “Can I become another version of myself? Jeez, Morty. What kind of business do you think I’m running here?” 

Rick slapped his palms together, rubbing them as though he were about to do some great feat of magic, “Time to make the Chimi-fuckin-changas. One emotionally unstable alcoholic scientist coming right up.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you might have noticed that I changed the chapter assumption from 3 to 4. I honestly couldn't resist throwing some feels in there. Hopefully you all like it though! I've gotten wonderful responses to this! Lots of really nice comments and I appreciate every single one of them! Thanks so much guys! This chapter is a bit short but I hope that you enjoy it none the less. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Rick and Morty. If I did, there would be a LOT more hints towards incest and the show would probably get canceled because of it.

If Morty was impressed or amused by the Marvel pop culture reference in anyway, he didn’t show it. Instead, the brunet watched with wide and awe inspired eyes as the Chameleon once again started to shift. 

It was different than it’d been before. Unlike the previous change, where the older man’s entire form had illuminated to a near shapeless form before reassembling to a more humanoid shape, Rick’s current figure only blurred around the edges. He was hazy and muddled, almost as if the younger man were looking at him through a film ridden strip of plastic, or a fogged over sheet of glass. He could still clearly see that it was Rick, could make out his shape and the color of his skin, the vibrancy of his hair, but everything else existed in a state of flux, a rippled existence that made it hard to focus. 

And then, without warning, he was clear as a bell. 

Rick’s features were sharp and very real. Standing in front of the brunet, with an ever present partial scowl that made the younger man even more ready to believe that Rick C-137’s features were just naturally like that, was the man who’d changed his life forever. However, as Morty’s eyes darted across the older man’s features, he couldn’t stop the sudden gallop of his heart or the way he felt weak in the knees. For some reason he’d readily assumed that, if he managed to find the Chameleon and had enough money to pay for the man’s services, that he’d have to coach the alternate version of his grandpa through the transformation. In his mind, Morty always assumed that he’d have to tell the shape shifter where Rick’s scars were, about what they looked like, about the exact shade of his Rick’s eyes, the ashen shade of his skin and the other flaws that made Rick, Rick. Morty assumed that, with the guidance, he wouldn’t feel as overwhelmed, that he would have time to prepare for what was coming and the emotions that would follow; that he wouldn’t be swallowed up by the emotions he felt in his everyday life and that he’d have more control over the situation, but Morty was wrong. 

So very, incredibly wrong. 

There was no guidance, no missing marks, no scars warped by Morty’s failed memory, there was just Rick. Everything about him screamed C-137. All the marks were there, his posture, the indifferent look, everything that made Rick who he was, aside from the man’s memories, was there, standing before the brunet with his arms crossed and it was like a swift punch to the gut. Morty felt as though he couldn’t breathe, like his lungs had somehow become a vacuum and the air was being sucked from them with ease, making the younger man feel light headed. 

“Woah there, Morty. Chill out.” Firm fingers grasped the brunet’s upper arm, squeezing the muscle as the shape shifter steadied the off balanced male, “Probably should have given you some warning or whatever.” 

The thoughtful words were so foreign coming out of Rick’s mouth that they took Morty by surprise. If he would’ve lost his cool like that in the garage at home or out during one of their adventures the older man would have ripped into him, teased him about being a wimp or a pussy for days to come before finally letting it go. That minor difference alone was enough to bring the startled youth back to the present, reminding him that he wasn’t really dealing with his Rick. This wasn’t actually his grandpa, wasn’t the man who’d changed everything in his life, wasn’t the one whose opinion he valued more than his own sanity. 

It was just an imitation, an illusion to satisfy the sick need he felt in every atom of his body.

Despite the harsh nature of his thoughts, Morty immediately felt better with that knowledge. His nerves calmed exponentially, leaving him free to breathe and look up at the shapeshifter with a smile, “I-I’m alright. Thanks.” 

The blue haired genius didn’t look entirely convinced but he released the brunet’s upper arm, letting his fingers skim down Morty’s arm to loosely wrap around his wrist, “You sure, babe? Kinda looked like you were gonna pass out.” 

The blush that’d gone away for the moment returned with a vengeance, scalding Morty’s cheeks with color and making his embarrassment impossible to hide or ignore much to Rick’s amusement, “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just, y’know, I wasn’t expecting you to be so accurate.” 

Rick snorted and raised an eyebrow, “What’s the point of my business if I’m not accurate, Morty? Customers flock so that their fantasies can be brought to life, not so that their fantasies can kind of, sort of come to life a little bit.” 

The snarky comment brought a smile to the younger man’s lips and he took a step forward, bringing their torsos together with a small flush of heat as he looked up at Rick, enjoying their size difference for once. 

The shapeshifter returned his smile. It wasn’t as genuine as Morty’s, but none of Rick’s smiles were ever really all that genuine anyway. It reminded the teen once again of why he was here and for a moment he felt himself start to get choked up again before he could swallow it down. If the Rick imitation noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead he wrapped an arm around Morty’s waist and brought him even closer, forcing the younger man to roll onto the balls of his feat to avoid falling into his older companion. Rick seemed to enjoy the slight power play though because a moment later he was leaning down to press a kiss to Morty’s clothed shoulder, and then another to his neck before nipping the boy’s earlobe playfully. 

“What do you want, Morty? Tell grandpa what you want.” 

A moment of confusion echoed through the brunet’s mind before he realized, with a start, that the Chameleon was asking how he wanted to be _fucked_. 

Morty sucked in a sharp breath, his heart going a hundred miles an hour as he rolled that question over in his mind. He was grateful to the imitation Rick though. The other man was patient, much more patient than the real Rick would have been and it felt nice not to be constantly put on the spot, to be able to consider and think his answers through without being forced into a corner by Rick’s impatience. 

“I-I-I want --” Morty bit his lip, shivering when Rick encouraged him with small kisses and nibbles on his sensitive neck, “I want you t-to dominate me, just like Rick would. Y’know.” 

Rick allowed the flat edges of his teeth to graze over the swell of Morty’s thundering pulse, making the teen tremble in his grasp, “What else babe? Don’t be shy.” A warm, callused hand slid up under Morty’s t-shirt, caressing the smooth lines of his back, trailing over the line of his spinal column, making the brunet jump in startled surprise before Rick hushed him with soft words of comfort, “Do you think you’re the first one to come here looking for something specific? Perhaps looking for words or actions outside of the sexual aspect?” 

The skin changer slid his fingers up into Morty’s hair and caressed his scalp, ignoring the way the younger man tensed slightly before Rick dropped his voice to a whisper and continued, “Sometimes there are things we need to hear but the people we need them from don’t know what to say. Or they aren’t capable of saying them. Don’t be afraid.”

Tears welled up in Morty’s bright green eyes, threatening to spill down over his cheeks and the teen was glad that the genius wasn’t looking at him, that he couldn’t see his face and how close to home those words struck. Lips the shade of a pale rose petal parted to speak only to close, to try a second time and once again fail. The words were there, lingering right on the tip of his tongue, but the brunet’s throat was tight, his mouth dry, and for a moment he feared the words would be left there, without response or acknowledgement. 

“Tell me what you need, babe.” Rick’s fingers tightened in the boy’s hair, pulling his head back just far enough to look down into the anxious face of his little would-be grandson, taking in the brimming tears and the fear of exposure present on his features. 

Morty wanted to look away, he wanted to turn his head to the side and come back with a sarcastic quip like Rick would have. He wanted to brush his feelings aside and not allow them to control him in any way but they were there, pushing against the walls of his heart and trying to make the organ burst. But as Morty looked up into the soft and patient gaze of his grandfather, intending to swallow them down and deny their existence, the words were sliding effortlessly from his lips.

“I want you to tell me that I’m a good boy, Rick” The tears finally fell from Morty’s eyes, cascading down over the plump swells of his cheeks, speckling his shirt with salt water, “I-I-I want you to make my first time feel good.” 

The shapeshifter’s lips parted in a sly grin, “A virgin?” 

The brunet’s heart sunk the moment he caught sight of that growing smile. His pulse sped up to the point of discomfort, but when the other man merely remarked on the state of his manhood, Morty felt himself letting out a breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. There would be no cruel jabs here, nothing to damage him. 

Something on the teen’s expression must have answered the elder’s question though because in the next moment he was cupping Morty’s face and brushing their lips together, “I’m going to enjoy taking you apart, babe.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW, okay guys! Here you go! A whopping 6 1/2 pages! Obviously the story isn't finished yet but WHEW. This was good. I really enjoyed writing it out. 
> 
> I would like to thank the lovely Squikkums for reading my work and always giving me sound advice and I would like to dedicate this chapter to the LOVELY, incredibly talented WubbaLubbaDubSub on Tumblr who also encouraged me to make this the best that it could be.

 

Knots twisted in Morty’s stomach and he let out an unintentional whimper of submission, standing up on his tip toes to press another kiss to the Chameleon’s mouth, shyly sucking on the skin changer’s lower lip. He felt awkward, inexperienced in the worst sort of way, but beneath that the dark haired male could feel the simmering of desire, the need to continue, to move forward. He was hungry for the touch of his companion, starving for the intimate contact that he’d craved so entirely for the majority of his time with Rick. Morty didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where to put his hands, didn’t know the proper etiquette, the dos and don'ts of sex let alone the rules that came with paid pleasure, but he craved more. He wanted the heat of skin meeting skin, he wanted to rip the clothes from Rick’s body and taste his flesh, to marvel at the fragility of somebody twice his age and yet more clever and cunning than anybody in the universe. 

He wanted to devour, to unravel, and be unraveled in return. 

Gripping the dark brown curls, the Rick imitation tugged Morty’s head back, exposing the expanse of the teen’s unmarked throat and groaned. He was utterly untouched, unblemished by the hands of others and the shapeshifter knew that he’d enjoy corrupting the soul in front of him that much more. However, as pale blue eyes met the dark and lustful green of his client, the Chameleon very nearly gasped aloud. There was desire in the features below him, plenty of passion, but just below the surface he could see the layer of unwavering love and affection that the younger man had tried so desperately to hide. People rarely came to him for love. For attention, yes, for lust and power, by all means, but very rarely did he look into the faces of people who paid for his services and see the awe inspiring sight of pure and utter acceptance, of unconditional love and sacrifice and though the older man knew that the gaze wasn’t for him, he could still feel the weight of it upon his soul. 

“Rick?” 

The quietly spoken utterance of his name snapped the blue haired man from his shock, bringing him back to the present and away from his own thoughts. Morty appeared nervous again, as if he’d done something wrong and the shape shifter set out to discourage those thoughts right away. 

“Apologies babe,” He dropped his head and skimmed thin lips over the soft curve of Morty’s jaw, “I was just lost in thought imagining all the things I want to do to you.” 

He ended the bold statement by latching onto the younger man’s neck, sucking slow and steady, bringing the blood to the surface only to nip at the skin, making the boy below him keen with pleasure. 

There would be hell to pay, he was sure, and the idea of stirring the pot only left the Chameleon harder. No Rick liked it when an alternate dimension touched their things, especially where Morties were concerned. Ricks were jealous creatures, beings of possession and the idea of marking up a virgin Morty who was so obviously enthralled by his alternate self was thrilling, especially knowing that this particular teen belonged to  _ the Rogue.  _ That guy was a real asshole, a thorn in everybody's side and the knowledge that he was marking up the brunet that all but belonged to the extremist left the shape shifter feeling hungry for drama. 

Rick released the boy’s neck with a pop, admiring the darkening mark against pale skin before tugging on the hem of Morty’s shirt and smirking down at him, “C’mon, l-let’s get you out of those clothes.” 

As expected, the teen blushed, directing his gaze to the side as his cheeks filled with color. In truthfulness, it was actually fairly adorable, as well as amusing. Morties were so easy to rile up and no Rick could resist, including the Chameleon. 

“Don’t be shy, babe.” The older man slid his hand shamelessly up under the brunet’s shirt, dragging his fingers along the warm expanse of the youth’s stomach, “Nothing to be afraid of.” 

Morty huffed, stepping away from Rick to hastily tug the yellow cotton shirt from his body, casting it aside, “Jeez Rick, I-I-I’m not a child. I’m not, y’know,  _ afraid _ .” 

Rick chuckled, “Of course not, Morty, of course not.” 

As Morty was haphazardly stripping out of his jeans, trying not to fall over as he stepped out of them, he could hear the thin layer of barely concealed condescension in Rick’s tone and he rolled his eyes. As nice as the older man was, it was becoming apparent that he was still a  _ Rick,  _ and as Morty very well knew, Rick’s were assholes by nature. 

A whistled sound of appreciation rang true behind the brunet and his blush darkened, “Damn, Morty. C-137 must really keep you on your toes.” 

The teen yelped as a warm callused palm cupped his ass through the thin cotton material of his briefs, squeezing shamelessly, “You’ve got the perkiest ass I’ve ever seen on a Morty.”

The teen almost jerked away from the contact before realizing, quite stupidly, that he’d asked for this. That he wanted this from Rick and the treatment he was receiving at the hands of his imitation grandfather was very likely the same as the treatment he would have actually gotten had he come onto his own Rick.  

Morty turned, tilting his head up but not quite meeting the bright and intense eyes of the man he longed for, “Y’know, just.. Just normal adventuring stuff. Heh.” Morty laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling frustrated with himself for not being less awkward. 

Rick tsked, reaching down and grabbing both sides of Morty’s ass and then dragging him forward, pressing their bodies snugly together, “Let me show you a -- a real adventure, Morty.” The Chameleon rocked his hips forward, smirking at the soft little breaths of pleasure Morty released in response, “One you’ll never forget.” 

Before Morty could come up with any sort of clever retort, Rick was manhandling him with a firm grasp, his slender fingers squeezing the back of Morty’s neck in a show of assertiveness as the blue haired genius guided the teen forward, bending him over the dining room table like an offering. Heated eyes dragged down along the boy’s vulnerable form, taking in the shapely legs standing tall and proud, the subtle dimples on either side of the boy’s spine near along the small of his back, the tantalizing curve of his ass through flimsy cotton. Morty was thin, a bit knobby kneed but overall the younger man had an incredibly curved figure for a boy. The brunet’s back was a lengthy expanse of smooth skin, strangely devoid of scars but the combination gave him a near androgynous look that left Rick salivating for a taste. 

“Such a -- a pretty Morty.” The elder ran an open palm up along the teen’s flank, a flush of power rushing off through his body as he watched a tremble go through the younger man’s form with glee. 

“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you,  _ Morty?”  _ Rick trailed his fingers further up the younger man’s side, sliding his hand around towards the boy’s front, caressing the softness of his stomach, gliding over the swell of his ribs with fleeting intent, “I bet you’d let me fuck you over -- right over this table, raw and without any sort of protection.” 

The Chameleon chuckled and dipped his head, pressing a filthy kiss to the warm skin of Morty’s back just above the elastic of his boxers, “ _ I bet _ that you’d let me fuck you with nothing but spit, a-and you’d beg me for more. Isn’t that -- isn’t that right,  _ Morty _ ?”

A small shiver of fear raced down the brunet’s spine. There was no doubt in his mind that Rick wouldn’t hesitate to make the entire experience unpleasant for him, if he so chose, merely to make a point but somewhere in the back of his mind, Morty remembered that this was for  _ him. _ It was all for show. The imitation Rick wouldn’t actually hurt him. That wasn’t what he’d asked for. He only wanted to be dominated, and demanding his submission was part of the experience. 

Morty yelped in unexpected pain as Rick grabbed his hair by the roots, tugging the strands so hard that Morty was forced to arch from the table, following Rick’s guidance,”Well,  _ Morty?  _ Am I wrong, or would you let me do all that filthy shit and more to you? Don’t be shy.” 

A small whine forced itself from Morty’s throat, “Y-yeah, I mean, yes, Rick. I-I’d let you do that stuff to me.”

The older man tsked, grabbing the elastic of Morty’s boxers and snapping it against the teen’s skin, smirking at the surprised jump that went through the boy below him, “I-I don’t know, Morty. That didn’t -- doesn’t sound very genuine.” 

Embarrassed, Morty’s cheeks flamed, quickly flushing with the color of his awkwardness but apparently the blue haired man wasn’t looking for a retort because when Morty opened his mouth to speak, the older man pushed him back down to the table, dragging a gasp from the teen’s parted lips. The chilled surface felt good against his overheated skin, offering the youth something else to concentrate on besides the persistence of Rick’s fingers but the edge of anticipation still kept him strung tightly along, waiting for the next move, waiting to see what the other would do. 

But Morty didn’t have to wait long. 

Rick grasped the boy’s hips, holding him still as he bent over the prone and exposed form of his would-be grandson, nipping sharply at the creamy skin on his side before rising back up and licking a hot wet stripe up the line of Morty’s spine. It was intoxicating, the flavor of youth and Rick nearly moaned aloud at the taste of clean sweat, adolescent hormones and the indistinct hint of basic male body wash. Below him, the brunet squirmed, shifting helplessly as Rick draped the full length of his still clothed body along the teen’s back before burying his face into Morty’s neck, kissing and sucking at the marks that he’d already left there. 

Rick flicked his tongue against the shell of Morty’s ear, nipping at the soft lobe as he ground his erection into the teen’s ass, “Is this what you -- what you want Morty? To be bent o-over some flat surface like a -- like a whore? Do you want me to fuck you like this? Do you want me to pound your sweet little ass here and now?” 

Overwhelmed by the impassioned turn their encounter had taken, Morty nodded shamelessly, pressing his cheek to the wood surface of the table as he looked back towards his grandpa, moaning softly and pushing his hips back in a bold attempt to get Rick to hurry along.

Rick turned his head and bit the sensitive skin of the younger man’s neck in warning as he pulled his own hips back for the moment, denying the teen contact but still keeping him pinned to the table’s surface with his body, “I don’t think so, Morty. This is what you wanted, to get dominated and fucked by your own grandfather and now you’re going to have to prove that it will be worth my while.” 

Rick released one of Morty’s hips and grabbed a fist full of dark brown hair, pulling the boy’s head back, exposing the tantalizing expanse of his milky hickey laden throat, “Beg me, Morty. Beg grandpa to fuck your tight virgin ass until you come all over yourself, or get out.” 

Morty whined, panting shamelessly against the wood surface as he tried to find the words demanded of him, his voice stuck, lodged deep within his throat and unwilling to make itself known, “Rick,”

The utterance of his lover’s name was long and drawn out, more of a breathy moan than anything, but the blue haired genius wasn’t satisfied in the least. The older man wound his fist tightly in Morty’s hair, gripping the strands until Morty flinched before kicking the boy’s legs further apart, growling low in the back of his throat as he ground the length of his covered cock into the valley of the teen’s ass, teasing his little hole with the rough friction of cotton briefs. 

“If you think that’s going to cut it, then you’re sorely mistaken.  _ Beg me _ ,  _ Morty _ . Beg like you’ve never begged for anything in your life.” Rick dragged the flat of his teeth along the side of Morty’s neck, the ghost of his exhales making the boy’s stomach flutter even more than it already was, “I won’t tell you again.” 

“F-fuck Rick.” Morty panted, the flush from his cheeks slowly crawling down the brunet’s neck towards his chest as he fought to speak over the pounding of his heart inside his ears, “I-I-I need it, Rick. I-I don’t --” Morty whimpered, pushing his hips back against the older man’s, keening as he felt the nudge of Rick’s cock against his opening through the layers of their clothes, “I-I want you to fuck me l-like some dirty slut, Rick, I want to be your dirty little slut. Just yours, Rick. I want t-to be your little fucktoy, Grandpa Rick. Give it to me, Rick, please. I’ll be good, I-I’ll be a good boy for you, I promise, Rick, just please.” 

Hearing such filthy shit come out of the innocent boy’s mouth left Rick’s cock harder than diamond. He could feel the molten heat of arousal start to take over, the demanding throb in his groin and the need to be buried as far as humanly possible inside of the body below, “Are you sure, Morty? Are you sure that’s what you want? Are you sure that you don’t want me to just leave you to the company of your right hand?” 

The teen whimpered, shaking his head as well as he could with Rick’s fingers wound so tightly in his hair, “No! I want it, please Rick! I need your cock! I need it inside of me, p-please, please wreck me!”

A smug grin curled the older man’s lips as he pulled away and watched Morty all but cry out in displeasure but he quickly stilled the teen, laying a warm open palm on his lower back, both reassuring and silently ordering him to stay still before Morty could make a move to stand back up. 

 The waves of power returned as Rick took a step back, admiring the brown haired boy. He was a mess. His legs looked as though they would buckle at any given moment, and his fingers were white where they gripped the edges of the table. Stretched cotton hugged the younger man’s ass, the material dipped down into the groove between his cheeks, adding feather light brushes against his tiny opening with each and every shift of his impatient body, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. All of the teen’s muscles were tense, taut and waiting under the strain of anticipation and even Rick had to admit, with all that he’d seen over the years, it was still a glorious sight -- to see the boy so willing, held in position by nothing more than his will to obey.

There was little more appealing to the older man than true, genuine submission. It was something he savored, the taste of control, and regardless of the various acts he performed for others on a daily basis, he had to admit that seeing such a gorgeous young man so wound and ready to come apart at a moment’s notice was, indeed, a treat. 

Rick smirked. 

Originally, he’d been less than enthused by the funds being offered for his services, but as the blue haired man stepped away, shedding his clothes in the pursuit of lubrication, he couldn’t deny his gratefulness for taking the chance. A quick glance back at Morty told the elder that the boy was getting restless. Built up with anticipation, as well as the return of his anxiety in the absence of sensation, left the dark haired teen squirming against the table. He hadn’t yet broken away from the surface, which was what Rick really cared about, but he appeared antsy. 

Recognizing nervousness when he saw it, the genius scooped up the bottle of lube and returned to his position behind the curly haired boy. Rick dragged his gaze shamelessly up the length of Morty’s back, watching with some satisfaction as the boy’s diaphragm rose and fell with shaky, uneven breaths before dropping the half empty container on the table. His eyes lit up with amusement as Morty nearly jumped out of his own skin at the sudden sound but he quickly made a move to soothe the frazzled teen. Strong fingers reached out and gripped Morty’s hips, squeezing reassuringly and rubbing his now freed erection against the cotton of Morty’s briefs. 

“Can you -- can you feel it babe? How hard I am for you?” Rick dipped his head to press a hot, open mouthed kiss between Morty’s shoulder blades, “H-how much I want you?” 

The elder turned and nipped at the sharp wing of Morty’s shoulder blade as he rutted against the boy’s ass, groaning softly against warm skin, “Tell me that you -- that you want it, Morty.”

Flat on the table, Morty gasped as he felt the heat of Rick’s cock through his boxers. It was so much better than when he’d felt it through the older man’s trousers. He could feel the intense heat rolling off Rick’s body in waves, could feel the thickness of his length and the slight dampness of pre-come. It was arousing beyond belief and, for the briefest moment, Morty almost missed the fact that Rick had even spoken to him. 

“Y-yeah, Rick, I want you t-to fuck me.” Morty pushed his hips back, feeling a slight sense of deja vu, before glancing over his shoulder back at his lover only to have his mouth go dry. 

Standing behind him in all his nude glory, was the man that Morty had lusted after for years. Thin with age, Rick’s lean muscles clung tightly to his frame, making him look sharper than he actually was, accentuating the power of strength in his frame. A brush of bluish silver hair clung to his chest, making his dark and perky nipples stand out. Long and slightly curved near the tip, the older man’s erection stood proudly at attention. He was uncut, thick in all the right places and much larger than the teen had originally given him credit for, but what really drew Morty’s eye were the marks, the scars scattered across the elder’s body like badges of honor. He’d seen them all, more times than he could count, but as Morty looked back at them with Rick naked and aroused behind him, the teen felt they were all the more fascinating. 

However, the most interesting of the lot, was a shiny puckered sunburst mark on the left side of Rick’s abdomen. 

It was fresh, pink and barely healed. Standing out in stark contrast among the more faded marks, Morty felt his throat get thick with emotion. Rick had gotten that mark because of him, because he pushed Morty out of the way and took the shot full force rather than letting the teen get hurt. Morty helped seal that very wound, helped cauterize it while Rick sat there, gripping his wrist with clenched teeth and an overly pained expression on his face. It was that scar that left Morty unable to deal with the suppression of his feelings any longer, the mark that made him seek out somebody who could do the impossible. 

It was the mark that lead Morty to the Chameleon. 

If Rick noticed his sudden wave of emotion, the older man chose not to mention it. Instead, Long fingers were grasping the waistband of Morty’s boxers dragging them slowly down over the curve of his ass before letting them fall down the length of his legs. Cool air rushed over newly exposed skin, making the curly haired teen tremble, rocking his hips helplessly, whining with desperation as he met nothing but air. Before he could open his mouth to complain though, Rick’s hands were back on his skin, cupping the cheeks of his ass and practically lifting the teen up onto his tiptoes with the way that he palmed the supple flesh. 

“What a-a needy little thing you are, Morty.” 

Rick’s fingers released the teen’s backside and started to explore a bit. He lingered around the brunet’s thighs, the curve of his hips, but every few strokes he’d brush his fingers against the younger man’s balls, listening to the sharp intake of breath with undisguised satisfaction. 

“What do you want me t-to do to you, Morty? Hmm?” Thin digits traveled back up Morty’s legs and caressed the swell of his ass, drifting closer and closer to his exposed opening, “Tell Grandpa what you need.”

The curly haired boy in question gasped as the pad of Rick’s finger brushed over the dry pucker of his entrance, the tiny hole fluttering softly under the stimulation, “I-I-I” 

Morty’s statement cut off and he whined as Rick applied a small amount of pressure, testing the ring’s resistance but not trying to penetrate, “Come on, babe. Don’t be -- don’t be shy.” 

Morty squirmed against the table’s surface, panting shallowly as Rick teased him, “I want y-you to open me up, Rick. Prepare me t-to take every inch of your fat cock inside my l-little hole.” 

Behind him, Rick groaned, grabbing both of the boy’s cheeks and spreading them wide, completely exposing his opening before leaning down and dribbling saliva over the tightly puckered skin. Morty’s reaction was instantaneous. He gasped the older man’s name, twisting against the table with a breathy sound full of need, his entrance clenching with anticipation. 

It was a thing of beauty, something to be savored really, and Rick’s fingers were quick to do so, rubbing teasingly at the teen’s hole, smearing the saliva with the pad of his pointer finger, “Such a -- such a good boy for Grandpa.” 

The needy brunet let out a choked sob, his body tensing as the man behind him offered a smidgen of praise for his good behavior, “Please Rick! I-I can’t -- I need --” 

Bright blue eyes roamed possessively over the horny creature below him and Rick knew exactly what Morty needed. A smug grin pulled at the older man’s lips as he popped the lube open with his thumb nail, drizzling the slick liquid over two of his fingers, “Alright baby, relax.” 

Morty wanted to point out that trying to relax, in itself, was a paradox and something that couldn’t really be done but before he could get cheeky, Rick was sliding one of his lengthy fingers inside of the curly haired teen’s body. 

It was shocking, a bit strange and not altogether pleasant, but Morty immediately knew without a doubt that he liked it. 

Rick’s fingers were long and slender, very nearly delicate, callused from years of scientific work, but it was the mental stimulation that did the boy in. These were the hands that built inventions from nothing, the ones that protected Morty at a moment’s notice with one finger on the trigger of a blaster, the ones that occasionally ruffled his hair when Rick was feeling playful. They were the hands that offered Morty wafer cookies, the ones that shoved him out of danger. They were the hands of his best friend and his mentor, his grandfather, his tormentor, his guide through the complexities of life. They were Rick’s hands. 

Morty keened, shoving his hips back towards the intrusion, pushing Rick’s finger even deeper inside of his body with a little cry. 

The blue haired genius snickered, sliding the digit in and out at a lazy pace, “Look a-at how greedy you are, Morty.” Rick licked his lips and picked up the pace, giving his wrist a little twist as he extremity in and out of the teen’s hole, quickly trying to prepare him for a second intrusion, “Do you want more, baby?” 

Practically sobbing against the table, Morty nodded with apparent desperation, clinging to the table with every ounce of strength he possessed, trying to stay upright. It was difficult. The emotional burst alongside the pleasure Rick was dragging his body through left the teen even more high strung than before, trapped in a constant cycle of  _ too much  _ and  _ not enough.  _

Sure in his knowledge that Morty’s opening was loose enough to continue, Rick slipped a second finger in with the first, groaning as he watched the brown haired youth writhe on the table. It was perfect, the way Morty moved. So genuine, eager and responsive. A true sight to behold and the shape shifter couldn’t stop the sinister grin that captured his lips at the knowledge that he was robbing another Rick of this once in a lifetime experience. 

Eager in his own right to move forward, Rick startled to scissor his fingers, opening the teen up in earnest for his cock. It was a slow process, one that he was near constantly tempted to rush through but Rick persisted, driving his fingers even deeper, spreading them wider with each stroke until, finally, he was able to wiggle a third and final finger inside of the boy below. 

For his part, Morty was doing as well as could be expected.  

The teen was a mess. He felt as though his body would explode at any given second, or at least he thought so, but that was before Rick touched something inside of him that made the brunet feel like he was going to scream. The pleasure was instantaneous, electric in its intensity and Morty almost wanted to pull away from it to keep himself from coming too soon, but Rick wasn’t having any of that. 

The moment the older man found the tiny bump, he grinned like a shark and purposefully glided his fingertip along the gland, spreading his fingers wide. 

“Rick!” Morty thrust his hips forward, his balls drawing up tightly, “I’m going t-to come!” 

Lightning fast, the older man was reaching around and grasping the base of Morty’s cock, squeezing tightly and preventing the brunet from reaching his climax, “I don’t think so, Morty. N-not until I give you permission.” 

Being pulled back from the brink was nearly agonizing, his muscles clenching and releasing with undeniable desperation and when the boy thought it could get no worse, Rick was pulling his fingers free as well, leaving the brunet feeling empty. 

Morty wanted to protest, to beg Rick to put them back inside but the words died on his lips as he felt the blunt tip of Rick’s cock press against his opening. It was so much larger than the man’s fingers, hot and hard against the loosened ring of muscle, and Morty wanted nothing more than to have his grandfather shove it inside of his body and brutally fuck him until he couldn’t think, let alone beg or speak. 

The older man seemed to sense his desire because a moment later, Rick’s lube slicked hand was sliding up the length of the teen’s back in a gesture that was probably meant to soothe, “Deep breath, Morty.” 

Eager to obey, the younger man drew in a deep lungful of air, trying to relax as much as possible, but the moment Rick started sliding inside it was nearly impossible to think beyond the pain. It felt like he was being split in half, like his entire body was slowly being ripped in two one inch at a time and the boy cried out in shock, digging his nails into the expensive wood dining table, trying to distract himself in any way possible as Rick kept pushing forward. It felt like it would never end, like Rick’s cock was going to go on forever, but it didn’t. Within a few more moments, Morty’s ass was being cupped by the cradle of Rick’s hips. He could feel the soft velvet skin of Rick’s balls against his skin and the curly haired brunet could do nothing but moan because, finally, Rick was inside of him. The man he admired more than anything, respected more than anything,  _ loved  _ more than anything was balls deep inside of him and all Morty wanted to do was sob at the pleasure of it all. Being penetrated had hurt, it still hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure of knowing that Rick was taking his virginity, that the scientist was about to pull back and fuck his brains out. 

Warm palms slid up and down the length of Morty’s flank, soothing him with a gentle touch, “Christ Morty, you feel s-so fuckin’ good, babe. So hot and tight around my -- around my cock. Are you ready?” 

  That tiny question, the certainty that Rick wouldn’t move until he knew Morty was ready, made the teen’s heart throb and he knew that, regardless of the lingering pain he still felt, that he couldn’t wait another second. He wanted to feel Rick lose control, to feel his grandfather taking his pleasure. He wanted to feel Rick’s cock slamming in and out of his body until he couldn’t stand another second of it and then he wanted to come all over the floor at the feeling of Rick filling his taut body up with the proof of his arousal. 

“Y-yeah Rick,” Morty wiggled his hips, hissing at the slight discomfort, “Move Rick!” 

The elder’s fingers gripped Morty’s hips tightly, squeezing the flesh hard enough to bruise as Rick pulled half of his cock out before pushing all the way back in with a groan, “S-shit babe,” The genius panted, pumping his cock in and out of the hot body below, “You look so -- so good stretched out around my cock, babe, fuck.” 

The sudden introduction of movement was like magic to Morty because, suddenly, there was no room for pain. No room for discomfort, only for the intense feeling of Rick’s cock sliding in and out of his body and suddenly Morty needed more. He needed to feel Rick absolutely destroying him, wrecking him for anybody else. 

He needed to feel owned. 

The teen shoved his hips back, meeting Rick thrust for thrust, low guttural sounds ripping from his throat as the action drove Rick’s cock even deeper into his body but it wasn’t enough, wasn’t nearly enough. 

“More, please Rick, give it to me!” Morty begged, squeezing his muscles tightly around the older man’s length with a sharp cry. 

Not needing to be told twice, Rick pulled his hips all the way back, leaving the very tip still inside the teen’s passage and he slammed home. The blue haired man snarled with feral arousal, setting an absolutely punishing pace, giving Morty exactly what he was begging for. Over and over, the genius thrust his cock in and out, using his grip of the brunet’s hips to hold him still as Rick brutally fucked him. It was animalistic, the need he felt for the scrawny little thing writhing and crying out beneath him and suddenly Rick wanted to drown in those sounds. He wanted to hear them up close and personal, not muffled by the unforgiving wood table. 

Releasing one of the boy’s hips, momentarily admiring the white marks on his skin as they slowly faded to red, Rick leaned forward, draping the length of his entire torso over Morty’s back. It was hot, mountains of body heat pouring from the teen’s frame in smothering waves and Rick knew that he wanted to be consumed by it, consumed by the heat of passion. 

Lengthy fingers darted forward and wrapped around the hickey laden column of Morty’s throat, squeezing sharply. He could feel the tremble beneath his hand, the vibrations of Morty’s cries and as Rick stood back up, tall and proud, he knew he needed more of it. Hauling the boy up with him by the brunet’s throat, Rick slammed into the tight channel with everything he had, growling out Morty’s name as he fucked the boy. 

Back to chest, head tilted back against Rick’s shoulder, Morty cried out at the new angle and the possessive way Rick clung to him, the way the older man fucked him, feeling Rick’s cock delving even deeper into his body. It was like nothing else, like nothing he had ever felt in his life, but when Rick released his other hand and used it to grab his thigh, hitching his leg up and forcing the teen to balance on one leg, the pale teen screamed. 

Rick’s cock was brushing his prostate, practically slamming into it with every brutal thrust and Morty could feel himself starting to lose it. His cock was impossibly hard and the teen knew that anything, a single brush would set him off and he’d come all over the floor. He was coming apart at the seams, unraveling down to his core, chest heaving with exertion as he neared his end and, in that moment of an all consuming build up, Morty didn’t immediately notice the burst of green light straight across from him as a portal popped into being. 

But Rick did. 

Lust emblazed blue eyes stared straight ahead over Morty’s shoulder, not stopping or even slowing down, not missing a single stroke as a very angry Rick stepped through the glowing portal into the hotel room. 

“I s-swear to god  _ Morty, _ if you stole my portal gun because you were too -- too lazy to walk the fuck down to 7-11 for a goddamn Slurpee --” 

But C-137’s angrily spoken statement was instantly cut off by the shock of what he was seeing. Eyes wide with unintentional arousal, Rick stared at Morty. The boy was covered in a sheen of sweat, flushed and red all the way to his chest, throat ensnared by a set of male fingers but even so Rick could see dark plotches of color peeking out. His cock was leaking, impossibly hard, bouncing up against his own stomach with each and every brutal thrust but what really caught Rick’s attention was the smug cat-who-got-the-canary grin from the Rick pounding into his grandson from behind, as well as the bright and unmistakable sunburst scar on the other Rick’s left flank.

Morty was fucking a shape-shifter. 

Morty was fucking a shape-shifter who was supposed to be  _ him.  _

Before he could reign in his anger, Rick barked a harsh and demanding, “Morty!” in his grandson’s direction. 

If it would have been anybody else, Morty would have ignored it. He was so close, so unbelievably close, right on the edge of falling apart but he knew that voice, knew it better than any other sound in the entire universe and his eyes snapped open in shock, quickly focusing on Rick. 

_ His Rick.  _

The genius looked absolutely furious, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a dark and angry scowl making his lips look thin but what drew Morty’s attention even more was the  _ lust.  _

It was so potent, so apparent and attention drawing. Even through all the possessive anger, even through the fury, Morty could see, plain as day, that Rick was  _ aroused.  _ Aroused by the display Morty presented, aroused by seeing Morty getting so brutally fucked by somebody that was supposed to be him, by the knowledge that Morty wanted him so badly. Rick was turned on by 

Morty the same way Morty was turned on by Rick and that knowledge sent the teen over the edge. 

Gasping for breath against the tightening hold the Chameleon had on the teen’s throat, Morty keened. The muscles in his abdomen contracted impossibly tight, every single portion of the brunet’s body straining towards the release he knew would come more surely than he knew that the sky was blue. Balls full and eager to empty drew snugly up to the overwhelmed boy’s body and he screamed out Rick’s name, thrusting his hips savagely as he came untouched, spurt after spurt of hot cum erupting from the tip of his shaft, falling to the floor in thick, white puddles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOO~! I bet you guys thought that Rick would never show up! It was always my intention to have Rick show up in the middle of it and I'm so unbelievably glad that so many of you that commented were on the same page as me(: Don't think the fun is over though(; Just you wait and see ladies and gentleman.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay whew! I know, this took a super long time! I apologize, I really do lol I've gotten super sucked into my vampire Morty fic with Squikkums (If you haven't read it already, seriously, do it. It's called Love me Dead here on Ao3. It's great. Shameless self promotion.) but whew! Finally got this baby out. I plan to have one last chapter after this, so the smut isn't over(: Enjoy you guys!

Silence. 

Absolute and utter silence reigned supreme among them, Rick staring on in furious arousal, fingers clenched, Morty limp and panting from the exertion of his orgasm, hanging in the Chameleon’s arms with his head dropped forward, and the shape-shifter merely grinned, unabashed. It was a moment of straining suspense, the smallest thing ready to snap their thinly stretched band of patience but, ever the drama starter, the skin-shifter shattered the moment with a harsh and unforgiving thrust. Pulling his hips back, Rick M-131 thrust back into the teen’s over sensitized body, purposefully grazing his prostate and making the boy scream in agonized pleasure.

And suddenly everything was slammed back into motion. Time fell from the lull of suspended disbelief, drawing all the occupants in the room back to the present and the Chameleon was pulling out of the startled teen and dragging him back to the bed, tossing the brunet's limp form onto the soft comforter like a rag doll and  smirking at the startled yelp as well as the stunned look of disbelief that continued to hold C-137's features hostage.

The shape-shifter crawled up behind his little deflowered toy, grinning at the bonelessness of the teen's limbs before he started to arrange him, urging the boy onto his hands and knees. It was quite the picture, to be honest, Morty’s arms shaking, as though he didn’t have the strength to hold himself up but was unable to do anything else. The teen’s skin was shiny with sweat, his muscles relaxed and yet, underneath, they still held a bit of tension, a ghost of the situation clinging to his thin teenage body and the Chameleon grinned like a cheshire cat over at Rick, eyes alight with enough mischief to put Loki to shame. 

“Well C-137, are you gonna get in on this or not?” Ready to poke the fire further, the shape-shifter leaned down and ran his tongue up the length of Morty’s spine, holding eye contact with Rick the entire time, “He’s delicious.” 

Morty felt sluggish, his brain still short circuiting, not yet pulled from the rush of his endorphins but when the curly haired brunet felt a hot, wet tongue along the fragile skin of his back he yelped and jerked his head up, eyes wide, only to stare into the eyes of  _ his Rick.  _ The man looked angry, in fact, that didn’t even begin to cover it. Rick looked absolutely enraged, furious down to his core, hands balled up into fists at his sides and Morty was terrified, terrified of what Rick would do or how he might react. The man moved with all the predatory grace of a panther with its eyes locked on an easy meal. He looked like a jungle cat that’d been teased by the gazelle one too many times, one that now had the creature in its sights and was out for blood. 

Morty felt his eyes pooling with tears, some of them due to mortification but half of it had absolutely nothing to do with shame because, in spite of everything, the teen couldn’t get past a sick sense of delight that he felt deep in his guts at the idea of Rick being furious with jealousy. The idea that Rick was enraged because Morty was with somebody else left the teen desperate and hot, already getting aroused a second time, as if he hadn’t just had the best orgasm of his life less than two minutes ago. 

And, sensing a moment to further the dramatic fallout, the skin changer took advantage of the moment. 

“My, my Rick. Look at this needy little slut, already hard again.” The Chameleon leaned down, practically draping the expanse of his body along the teen’s back in a subtle show of possession that was sure to leave C-137 seething with anger, and he nuzzled the soft spot behind Morty’s ear, whispering just loud enough for the other Rick to hear, “You should have told me you were a masochist, babe, I would have taken even better care of you.” 

The shape-shifter nipped Morty’s earlobe, and the brunet shivered without warning, “I’d have been  _ much  _ rougher.” 

And with that, Rick M-131 was lining himself back up and slamming his cock back into the youth’s body with a low hiss, his eyes locked with Rick’s in a silent challenge, one that dared the other man to do something about it as Morty’s tight heat wrapped around his shaft like a vise. 

Green eyes went wide with startled surprise, a cry pulling from the curly haired teen’s lips as he was once again filled and suddenly Morty was trying not to show just how affected he was by the cock inside of him, how much he was enjoying the sharp drag against his rim as the man behind him pulled out and prepared to push back in. Morty dropped his head to look down at the carpet over the edge of the bed, stared pointedly at the ground, trying not to cry, not to let Rick, his Rick, see his shame. But then he could hear footsteps approaching and suddenly his grandpa’s black shoes were in his line of vision and the tears were spilling over, cascading down over the flushed swell of his cheeks and he felt terrible, and fantastic and desperate all at once. 

Thin spidery fingers reached out and pinched Morty’s chin, guided his face upward and forcing the teen to look into Rick’s harsh blue eyes and though the older man was angry, brimming with barely contained rage, he felt felt his heart lurch at the sight. Morty looked so beautifully broken, so ashamed of himself and as the older man stared down at his grandson through the inky fan of the boy’s lashes, he could see the need to be forgiven there, the silent apology Morty couldn’t bring himself to utter, and Rick accepted it.

With more care than many Ricks would ever bother to expend towards their Morties in the privacy of their own world, let alone before the eyes of another Rick, C-137 cupped the brunet’s face and looked him over, eyes roaming hungrily over the youth’s face as he reached up and wiped the tears from Morty’s eyes with his thumb. Trailing the pad of his finger gently along the sensitive skin under the boy’s eye, their gaze connected, striking blue meeting mossy green, and Rick continued the gesture of his thumb down along the boy’s face, tracing the tear’s path over incredibly soft skin. But then Rick’s eyes landed on the teen’s lips, the beautiful cupid’s bow of his mouth, the plump, swollen flesh of his lower lip and suddenly, without much thought, Rick was running the pad of his thumb along the teen’s mouth, feeling the tiny puffs of hot air against his fingers as Morty breathed. 

It was intoxicating, that rush and Rick’s eyes darkened as he growled, “Christ, you’ve got a gorgeous fuckin’ mouth for a Morty.” 

Behind the duo, the Chameleon rolled his eyes and set up a slow and lazy pace, in no real hurry to finish. It was satisfying enough being inside of the kid while C-137 was present, having to settle for the boy’s mouth and though he agreed that Morty C-137  _ did  _ have an utterly delectable set of lips on him, nothing compared to having the brunet’s tight hole wrapped around his shaft. Especially with the knowledge that he’d just taken the teen’s virginity and, as it turned out, the other Rick had been  _ saving it.  _

Resisting the urge to cackle, the shape-shifter sped up his strokes, grinning wickedly as he felt the younger man’s body clench around his shaft, C-137’s gaze breaking away from the eyes of his Morty to glare over his head at the smirking prostitute. It was just too easy, too easy to stir the pot and make things happen. 

C-137’s gentle expression disappeared in an instant, hidden beneath his growing sense of possession and he looked down at Morty with eyes blazing with danger, “O-open your mouth for me, babe.” 

With a quickness that surprised the older man, Morty’s lips were parting, granting him access and Rick took advantage of it immediately, shoving his thumb into the teen’s mouth with a growl. Darkening blue eyes stared down into the brunet’s face as C-137 glided the pad of his thumb along the flat of Morty’s tongue. It was all wet velvet, slick and soft as he slid his finger up and down the center of Morty’s tongue, imagining the way it was going to feel against the bottom of his cock but then the teen was surprising him, wrapping his lips around the digit and giving a long, slow suck that left Rick’s mouth dry.  _ Fuck _ . 

“You’re a little slut,  _ Morty, _ ” Rick pulled his thumb free and shoved two fingers into the teen’s mouth instead, brushing them along the sweet satin insides of Morty’s cheeks and along the textured roof of the brunet’s mouth, pumping them in and out of Morty’s mouth in sync with the eager pulls of the teen’s lips, “So hungry for grandpa’s cock. Isn’t that right, Morty?” 

The teen murmured out his reply against Rick’s fingers, not giving the older man exactly what he wanted but suddenly he felt a long and unyielding set of fingers grasp a handful of his hair and Morty was being pulled off of Rick’s fingers with a gasp, head forcibly held back by the shape-shifter behind him, forcing his green eyes to meet Rick’s. 

“Answer him, Morty.” The Chameleon growled, driving his hips forward and startling a cry from the brunet’s spit slicked lips, “Tell him how much you want to gag on his cock.” 

Eyes glassy and aroused, pupils blown, Morty looked up at Rick without a trace of his previous shame, too far gone to care how he looked or how the other perceived him, “I-I want it, Grandpa Rick.” 

C-137’s eyes narrowed and he made a move to unzip his pants, popping the button and letting them hang dangerously low on his hips, revealing hints of a bright blue happy trail, “W-what do you want, Morty. You’re gonna have to be a -- a little more specific i-if you expect me to give you want you want.” 

The Chameleon's fingers tightened in his hair, using the gripped strands for leverage as he picked up his pace, slamming into the teen hard and deep and Morty keened with desperation, the tip of his aching cock brushing tantalizingly along the bedspread, “I-I-I want t-to gag all over your cock, Rick. I want you to fuck my face u-until I can’t breathe and I just -- fuck Rick please, let me suck it.” 

Rick of C-137 snarled at the way his grandson begged so shamelessly and then he was taking another step forward and reaching into his pants, drawing his cock out nice and slow, watching Morty’s eyes track the movement with covetous hunger, “Is this what you want, Morty?” 

The scientist wrapped his fingers around his shaft and stroked it slowly in front of the boy’s face, “A-are you gonna be a-a good little cocksucker for grandpa?” 

Morty nodded eagerly, ignoring the way his scalp screamed under the strain of the other Rick’s grasp, “Y-yeah, Rick, yeah. I’ll be good, I-I’ll be so good for you, I promise.” 

Already dark eyes flared with possession and Rick grasped the boy’s face, pushing his thumb past Morty’s lips, applying pressure to the teen’s bottom teeth and opening his mouth with very little effort, “Fuck yeah, I know you will, babe. Now hold still for grandpa, Morty.” 

Squeezing the base of his length, Rick dragged the slick tip of his cock back and forth over the brunet’s lower lip, smearing his mouth with precum and shivering as a shy little tongue darted out to brush against the wet slit. 

Sensing that the boy between them was probably going to need the freedom to move in a minute, the Chameleon released Morty’s hair and reached for the curly haired boy’s shoulders, digging his fingers in deep as he pulled Morty’s body back to meet every single one of the prostitute’s thrusts. 

It was an instantaneous shift. 

The atmosphere of the room had lingered in a veil of calmed tension, desire and promise, but now the temperature was rising, becoming more and more strained, threatening to break and as M-131 pumped his hips, driving his cock in and out of the very willing body in front of him, he could feel the mood shift with startling suddenness. Rick C-137’s fingers replaced the Chameleon’s in Morty’s hair and he growled out a low and commanding, “Open wide babe,” before plunging his cock into Morty’s mouth with a groan. 

For his part, Morty felt absolutely wrecked by both of the men ganging up in him. 

The teen could feel his muscles fluttering around the shape-shifter’s cock, his shoulders aching from the unforgiving grip, and the brunet clenched around the man’s arousal, drawing a startled groan from the older man’s lips. If his mouth wasn’t full, Morty would have moaned at the sound, pleased with himself for doing something so obviously right but the thought was short lived because, without warning, the Chameleon was increasing his speed, absolutely punishing the teen with his cock. Morty whined around Rick’s erection, looking up at him through his lashes as he was forced to take it, to feel every vein, every ridge of the Chameleon’s shaft, dragging along his silky inner walls. 

The man above him held no sympathy though. Rick’s gaze dragged hungrily over his features as the older man fed Morty his cock, pumping it slow and steady past his lips and into his mouth, still completely clothed and smirking down at the ruined teen, “Look at how well you’re doing, Buddy. Taking both of our cocks like t-the little whore you are. You were -- were made for this, weren’t you Morty? Those lips were made to be wrapped around my dick.” 

In no position to argue, Morty murmured in agreement around Rick’s cock and was surprised when the older man released his hair and tilted his head back, “Yeah babe, suck it for me, do a good job, Morty.” 

Eager to please, to impress the man he desired more than anything, Morty quickly obeyed and started to bob his head. He’d never sucked an actual cock before. Like most teenagers he’d experimented a little bit, seeing how much of a slick popsicle he could get in his mouth, sucking on his fingers to try and get the rhythm down, but Morty found that reality was a lot different than his fantasies. 

The angle felt awkward, and as the teen tried to push down further, to get more of Rick’s cock in his mouth, he could feel his throat tighten up, rejecting the intrusion. Spit dripped from his lips, making the brunet slightly self conscious and he could feel his face getting hot, the need to pull off and take a deep breath becoming more and more demanding with every single stroke of his mouth. But still, Morty didn’t give up. 

The curly haired boy stared up at Rick, taking in the exposed curve of his throat, the harsh rise and fall of his chest, and though Morty wasn’t overly confident in his abilities, he knew that he was doing something right, that Rick wasn’t unaffected by the entire encounter. 

Lost in thought, the teen didn’t even realize that one of his shoulders had been released until the Chameleon’s unforgiving fingers were gripping his curls tightly and shoving his mouth further down Rick’s cock, holding him there as the shape-shifter groaned out his pleasure, pumping his hips quickly and beginning to lose his rhythm. 

C-137 gasped in surprise as the head of his cock was suddenly plunged into the tight, wet heat of Morty’s throat. Startled blue eyes flew open, looking down to Morty’s face and Rick moaned at the sight. His counterpart was pushing the teen’s mouth down, holding him by the hair and forcing Morty to deepthroat his cock. Rick could feel the muscles in Morty’s throat clenching around him, his gag reflex acting up, slight panic at the boy’s inability to breathe but all the blue haired scientist could do was lean forward, slightly curled and drive his hips forward, sliding his shaft even further into the boy’s throat with a choked moan. 

Rick dug his nails into his palm, fists clenched, “ _ F-fuck,  _ fuck Morty just like that babe, shit, hold it baby.” 

Morty looked up at him with lust blown eyes, tears falling down over his cheeks, his entire face red and Rick knew that he would need to breathe in a second, that if he didn’t pull out he was going to actually choke the boy but then the teen unintentionally swallowed around him and Rick felt logic fly out the window. The scientist’s entire point of focus was zeroed in on his cock because, in that instant, he could feel every single muscle in Morty’s throat shift, gripping his cock tightly, moving downward in a painfully synchronized motion and the older man nearly lost it before he pulled back, sliding his cock free of Morty’s mouth. 

The boy’s lips were swollen and slick, saliva dripping from his mouth as he gasped for air, coughing harshly, and Rick knew that he should feel bad, the slightest bit guilty at least, but he really didn’t, and when Morty took a few deep breaths and lifted his head, meeting Rick’s gaze and opening his mouth, ready to go again, the genius snarled his approval, “Fuck yes, Morty. You’re so good, such a good boy. My pretty l-little cockslut. So eager. God, y-you really do want to choke on grandpa’s cock, don’t you? Let me hear you say it baby.” 

Looking utterly wrecked, Morty licked his lips and responded in a strained and raspy voice, “I wanna gag on it, grandpa Rick. Please let me.” 

Rick hissed, cupping Morty’s face and guiding him back towards the older man’s cock, “Christ.  Yeah, Morty. You l-look like a fuckin’ pornstar, Jesus. Grandpa is gonna take real -- real good care of you.” 

Without waiting another second Rick was plunging his cock back into his grandson’s mouth, staring down at the teen’s flushed face as he pumped his hips back and forth, fucking the boy’s face without an inch of restraint, driving his shaft into the younger man’s throat. It was fuckin’ beautiful, watching Morty’s lips stretch almost comically to accommodate the swell of his cock, to watch saliva drip from the brunet’s mouth as he allowed the scientist to use him for his own pleasure and Rick groaned, his gaze finally dragging away from Morty’s flushed features to those of his doppleganger. 

Rick C-137’s eyes narrowed as he dragged his eyes up and down the Chameleon’s body with barely contained jealousy. The older man looked like him, bore his scars, but he wasn’t even close, not really. The shape-shifter was buried inside of Morty’s body, driving his length in and out of the brunet’s hole, but his eyes were closed. His rhythm, the roll of his pelvis was weak at best and C-137 nearly snorted until he noticed the pinched look between the prostitute’s brows. His features were strained, and Rick could see him start to falter, the other man’s thrusts too hard, lacking coordination, his hands gripping the boy’s hips too tight and the scientist hissed, recognizing the other’s need to cum. 

Swift as a striking snake, Rick C-137 had his fingers wrapped around his grandson’s throat and he was pulling the brunet from his cock, enjoying the lewd pop as Morty released his length. C-137 could see the confusion there, the longing to keep going, but Rick had other plans, better ones. 

The vibrant haired genius forced Morty to look up at him, lengthy fingers flexing around the warm column of the teen’s throat and he smirked, eyes locked with Morty’s, “He’s about to cum. Can y-you feel it baby? Can you feel him getting close in your little hole?” 

Morty whined around Rick’s grasp on his throat, unconsciously driving his hips back to meet the Chameleon’s thrusts, his fingers gripping the bedspread until his digits turned white. 

Rick grinned, darting his gaze up to meet the half mast eyes of his counterpart, a wicked grin on the scientist’s lips before he looked back down at Morty, “Tell him to pull out, Morty.” 

Already present confusion deepened, becoming more apparent and Morty tried to ask why, tried to ask if he was being punished but before he could so much as make a sound, Rick’s grip was tightening around his throat, making it even harder to breathe, “Do you know why, Morty?” 

Without waiting for a response, Rick leaned down til their faces were almost touching and he hissed possessively, lips pulled back in a partial snarl, “Because you belong to me, Morty.  _ Me.  _ And if you let him cum inside of you, even with the condom, I’ll never touch you again.” 

Panic lit up the boy’s dazzling green eyes, cutting through the lust like a razor and Morty started to squirm in earnest, fighting to voice his words through the grip Rick had on his neck and the brunet keened, voice choked and raspy, “ _ Please, pull out!  _ D-d-don’t -- don’t cum inside! _ ”  _

Victorious, C-137’s grin turned wicked and pleased, but as he glanced up, taking in the features of his alternate self, he growled. The shape-shifter looked smug as ever, slamming his cock mercilessly into Morty’s body even as the boy squirmed and whined, looking as though he was going to ignore the brunet’s demand. 

Without a second thought Rick was releasing his grandson’s throat, his cock jumping at the ragged gasp for air he heard in response, and then he was whipping a blaster from the pocket of his lab coat and pointing it between his doppelganger's eyes with an animalistic growl, “You heard the boy. Pull out and cum somewhere else or die.” 

The Chameleon stared Rick C-137 down, sneering unhappily at him but, rather than run the risk of actually getting incinerated by the rogue for pushing the envelope too far, the prostitute pulled out with a hiss. Ripping the ruined latex off, Rick M-131 wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and quickly started to pump his fist up and down his own length, panting harshly, abdominal muscles clenched tightly, like a coiled spring ready to snap. 

Smugly arrogant blue eyes met those of C-137, the skin changer’s lips curving into a sinister grin and he groaned loudly as he finally reached his peak, fist flying up and down his shaft as he shot his load, cumming all over the very bottom of brunet’s back, watching the white mess drip down between his cheeks and along the stretched opening of his body. 

The rogue’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but the Chameleon couldn’t care less. He’d gotten his shot in, ruined the boy anyway, and to drive the knife in deeper, the shape shifter slid his softening cock between the teen’s asscheeks, hissing in pleasure as he smeared the mess further, “Perfect.”

Above, Morty could feel himself start to hyperventilate, the sheer amount of panic he felt pushing the arousal from his veins, his erection starting to wilt a bit. Terrified green eyes stared up at Rick, trying to gauge the older man’s furious features, to see if he was in trouble. Rick looked pissed, beyond pissed really and the teen whined, utterly afraid that Rick would hold him accountable, despite the fact that the brunet wasn’t in control, that he couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

C-137’s fingers clenched around his weapon, and he snarled between clenched teeth, “Always fucking pushing it. I should -- should kill you right now, M-131.” 

The prostitute snickered and pushed himself off of the bed, unabashed by his nakedness and he moved over beside the bed, dropping down into a chair without shame, crossing one of his legs, “I did what you wanted. I’m a  _ Rick.  _ What did you expect? Common courtesy?” 

The Chameleon sneered “Don’t kid yourself. You would’ve done the same. Take it or leave it.” 

Furious and ready to snap, C-137 shoved the blaster back into his pocket, glaring holes into his other self before looking to the worried boy on the bed. Morty looked terrified, his cock completely soft now and the scientist felt the tiniest flicker of guilt. Like he’d ever be able to keep his hands off of Morty now, whether the prostitute had cum inside of him or not. That wasn’t gonna happen, not now that he knew the boy wanted him but he didn’t say anything, letting the teen stew in his own fear. He needed to get the brunet home, back into his own territory, before he claimed him, before he punished the little fuck for ever thinking that he could get away with giving himself to another Rick.  

“Grab your clothes, Morty, we’re going home.” 

Naked and stunned by the turn of events, Morty slid shakily off the bed, wincing as he felt the cool wetness of cum and lube between his cheeks as well as smeared all over the bottom of his back and he quickly traversed the room, grabbing his things and trying not to look at either of the older men. He didn’t know how much trouble he was in, not just for the sex but for taking Rick’s portal gun as well and the brunet didn’t really want to think about it, but before he could cover himself, the younger man was releasing a sharp yelp because Rick’s fingers were gripping the top of his arm, directing him without question. 

Morty followed obediently, staring at the ground, the sharpness of his shame finally beginning to come into focus and the teen was about to cry when his attention snapped up at the touch of another. 

The Chameleon was holding his wrist, preventing him from leaving and Morty frowned in question, darting his gaze over towards Rick where the older man was glaring daggers into his other self but the prostitute paid it no mind, slipping a wad of dollar bills into Morty’s palm before letting go. 

Morty’s frown deepened and he looked down at the money with confusion before the elder finally spoke up, a cheshire cat grin curling his lips, “For a virgin piece of ass as hot and tight as you? No charge.” 

The teen blushed, his eyes going wide as saucers and he looked fearfully up at Rick, wincing at the enraged look on the older man’s face and he gulped, instantly terrified and wishing that the shape-shifter would have just kept the money. 

“We’re going Morty.  _ Now. _ ” 

The brunet nodded and looked down at the floor as Rick shot an eerie green portal into the wall, his eyes hard and behind them, the Chameleon cackled, “Come back soon, C-137.” 

Trusting that Rick wouldn’t send him naked into the middle of somewhere embarrassing, Morty quickly darted into the portal, wanting to get away before the shape-shifter could make it any worse but Rick lingered behind, tucking himself back into his pants and he turned on the prostitute, teeth bared, “If you  _ ever _ touch m-my Morty again, I’ll kill you. Slowly. In the -- in ways that’ll make other  _ Ricks _ sick to their stomach. Keep your filthy hands to yourself, M-131, or I’ll show you why I was labeled as a danger too extreme for the Council.” 

The elder’s eyes narrowed with sincerity, and he felt a sharp flush of pleasure go through his frame at the flicker of fear that echoed in M-131’s eyes before stepping into the green doorway, following Morty into the older man’s room at home, ready to teach his grandson a very important lesson about possession and what happened when the brunet allowed others to touch what didn’t belong to them.  


End file.
